Rescue
by Faran1078
Summary: Set before Hers, goes back to how I imagined their rescue playing out. The final chapter is up.
1. Chapter 1

They were standing on the edge of the jungle staring in amazement out across the water. Shannon's right hand fumbled for his left and he grasped it. "Boone?"

He shook his head and breathed a little laugh. "I…I guess we're going home." He turned to look at her, as she met his eyes.

Anyone looking at them would have seen two slightly scruffy, decidedly underweight young people, the boy with a baby in a makeshift sling hanging across his chest, his right hand gripping a walking stick, a large hunting knife in a sheath stuck in the front of his belt, the blonde girl to his left standing slightly behind him. They both looked far too frail to have successfully survived a year on the island. People would have been shocked to learn that the boy was actually the second best hunter in the group. For someone who'd previously been used to wielding nothing more dangerous than a Mont Blanc, he could hunt, kill, gut and skin a wild boar, which usually outweighed him by a good fifteen pounds, with amazing skill. Their slightness was misleading as well; they were both tough, muscular, the young mans' arms, exposed in the sleeveless tee he wore, well defined.

Jack had warned them repeatedly about Boone carrying Andrew, he'd patiently explained that if there was any kind of attack, Boone was going to be their first line of defense, and he needed to be free of any encumbrances. However much sense it made to them, and they both acknowledged that it did, invariably he was the one who picked up the child. Of course, he always left the baby in Shannon's care when he went off to hunt, but when they were together it was second nature to him. He'd been the boy's primary care giver since day one, Shannon's almost dying from the after effects of his birth preventing her from having a hand in caring for him early on, so the pattern had developed.

Their eyes moved from the ocean to the beach. There seemed to be two schools of camp with respect to the rest of the thirty-five remaining survivors' reaction to the sight of the cruise ship heading towards them. Half were standing in stunned silence, like them, the rest screaming, hollering and jumping up and down.

When Charlie had run into the caves earlier to tell those not already on the beach of the sighting, they'd all stared at him like he'd finally given in to the lure of the heroin stuffed religious statues. It had taken him several minutes of persuasion, and the arrival of Sullivan to confirm his story, before they'd all hurried down to the beach.

As they watched, the cruise ship seemed to come to a stop; then dispatched a motor launch to head the rest of the way to shore.

They crossed the beach as Jack and Sayid went forward to talk to the men on the boat. Boone pulled her close as he listened to Jack explain who they were, and how they'd come to be there. The crewmembers seemed incredulous, but relayed his information through their radio to the ship. Jack leaned in, listening to what the men were saying before turning to the remnants of flight 815, all of whom had gathered around.

"They're going to give us an hour to get our stuff together, then they're going to start ferrying us out to the ship. I need everyone ready to go, you all got that?" Jack surveyed all of them, getting nods of affirmation in response.

'Boone?' Shannon furrowed her brow, seeming near tears, confusion in her eyes.

'Shan, you need to go to the caves and get our stuff,' he was equally stunned, but pulled her to face him, "okay?" He looked in her eyes, hoping for understanding; it wasn't like her not to roll with a situation.

"But…what…I don't…" She was glancing around wildly; this was all happening way too fast for her to process.

'Yeah, Shan, I know it's happening fast,' he acknowledged, 'but you need to get it together. I'll only hold us back, you need to get to the caves without me, get our stuff, and come right back.' He shook her gently, "You can do this." He pulled the knife out of his belt and held it out to her. He glanced around, "Go with Michael, okay?" She took the knife and nodded.

She suddenly seemed to regain herself, "Of course, I can do this, what am I, incapable of packing a couple of bags on my own?" She said it more to herself than to him, though.

Not now, he thought, not wanting to get in an argument with her. "Michael!" he shouted, turning away from her.

"Yeah, man?" he stopped at Boone's call.

"Can you please take Shannon with you?" he pushed her in Michael's direction.

She turned back around and kissed him, giving him a brief reassuring smile, before running after Michael.

Boone moved back a distance from the boat and lowered himself slowly to the sand, sitting with his right leg stretched out in front of him. He pulled a bottle of water out of his bag and took a long swig and then held the bottle to the baby's lips, dribbling in a few drops. Andrew drank, waving his arms at the bottle as it caught the sun and sparkled. Boone twirled it in front of him for a while in play, before the baby lost interest. He put the bottle back in his bag then glanced around to see if any of the beach dwellers were watching him, thankfully noting that they all appeared preoccupied with their packing, completely ignoring his presence. He reached down and pulled his right pant leg up. The bruise was huge, the skin broken in a couple of places; he closed his eyes briefly, cursing himself for his stubborn idiocy. The leg had already been throbbing badly, even before he'd left to go hunting that morning. He looked up at the cloudy sky and cursed the rainy weather that threatened. He'd been too proud to take a walking stick, choosing instead to ignore the pain and just get on with the job. He'd been in the middle of the jungle and had gone to put his full weight on the leg, when it had buckled unexpectedly and he'd fallen against a rock. Shannon was going to kill him for this, first acting all concerned, then berating him for his stupidity. He reached down and pressed his fingers against the spot, hissing in pain. He quickly pulled the leg of his jeans back down, then looked around wondering if he could be of any help. He shrugged, realizing that in his present condition he'd only be in peoples' way.

He sat quietly and watched the flurry of activity going on around him. He sensed a presence behind him, just before the hand fell on his shoulder.

"John," Boone acknowledged, as he turned.

"I just came to say goodbye," Locke squatted beside him.

"I figured." He allowed. He never expected that Locke would leave his precious island. He loved the place like a man might love his mistress, all tempestuous and forbidden.

"It was an honour knowing you." Locke seemed sincere.

Boone didn't know what to say, "I learned a lot from you." It was the best he could offer.

John sidestepped the fact that he hadn't returned the sentiment and gestured with his knife towards Boones' leg. "It hurts today?"

"Yeah, weather, you know," he gestured at the thunder clouds looming on the horizon.

"Yeah, I know." Locke paused. "I'm sorry, I never meant for you to get hurt."

"John, don't. Let it go. I know _I _have, at least the whole blaming you part…the actual dying, not so much." Boone breathed a small laugh. "You'll be okay?"

"What do you think?" John grinned at him.

"I think I'm an idiot for even asking the question." Boone regarded him solemnly.

"That's the last thing you are, son, an idiot." Locke patted his shoulder.

Boone glanced towards the path to the caves. "Shannon's almost back."

"Then I guess that's my cue to leave. Your sister certainly doesn't care if I live or die, _or _wants to say goodbye."

Boone shrugged, Shannon's opinion's were her own, she'd never hidden them, and he'd never tried to change them. She still blamed Locke for the Beechcraft incident.

"Be well." Boone wished him, as the other man stood and made his way across the beach. Boone watched as Locke disappeared into the jungle.

He levered himself back up to his feet as Shannon emerged from the tree line with Sun and Jin. Good girl, he acknowledged, relieved that she hadn't headed back to the beach on her own. After Kate's body had been found two weeks ago, broken and bloody, not more than half a mile from camp, they'd all stepped up their security measures.

She crossed the sand towards him, one backpack slung between her shoulders, the other hanging from her left hand, the knife protruding from a side pocket, within easy reach.

'Locke?' She asked reaching him, sensing that the man had been there.

He nodded his head towards the jungle. 'Gone.'

'Good riddance,' she thought, uncharitably. He just shook his head at her, but couldn't really say anything, after all, her animosity had its' basis in her love for him. He headed for the boat, Shannon following.

They were finishing loading the first group, the boat large enough for fully half of their number. Jack had left the manifest with Sayid, who was checking off the names as the people boarded.

Sayid turned as they approached, "Boone, can you give this to Jack when he returns?" He held out the manifest to him. "He wanted me to go with the initial group in the event he did not return in time to go with the first boat." As Jacks' second, Sayid was the logical choice to accompany the first wave in Jack's stead, someone needed to act as spokesperson.

Boone took the paper from him as he turned to climb into the boat. They hung back, as the boat was pushed off from shore.

The remaining survivors gathered slowly, Jack finally emerging from the path to the cave, the last to return. Boone handed him the manifest, as the boat neared shore again. Jack ticked off the names as people clambered aboard, finally just the three of them, and Andrew, remained on the sand. Jack looked around scanning the area, then turned to the pilot of the boat. "That's everyone except…"

Boone caught his eye and shook his head slightly.

He acknowledged Boones' gesture by raising his eyebrows and nodding. "That's everyone." Jack folded the manifest and stuck it in his bag. "You guys ready to blow this pop stand?" He asked them. Boone made a face as his attempt at humour fell a little flat.

Shannon took one last look around before, almost wistfully, nodding yes.

There was a bit of a disagreement as one of the ships' crew members tried to prevent Boone from bringing the walking stick, but Shannon just pushed in front of him and stared the man down as Boone awkwardly climbed in the boat, grasping the walking stick securely in his left hand.

The boat pushed out from shore, and, as they headed for the ship, Boone wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned in to him, sliding her hand around his waist and hooking her thumb through one of his belt loops, as they both stared back at the place that had been their home for the last year.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack could hear Sawyers' voice as the crew member who was acting as their guide reached forward and pulled one side of the double doors open.

"I ain't waitin' for Jackass to show up and tell _me_ what to do. You can all stand around like you've forgotten how to think for yourselves without Ben Casey, but _I'm_ havin' a shower."

Jack passed through the door and found himself in what appeared to be a standard sized high school type gymnasium. His eyes were immediately drawn to Sawyer, as usual at the epicentre of attention; he was just pulling off his underwear. Throwing it in an industrial sized canvas cart, he headed for an opening in the wall at the end of the room, obviously housing the showers to which he'd just referred. Their guides' eyes got wide as several more of Jack's people, of both sexes, quickly followed suit, disrobing and depositing their garments in the hamper, then heading for the showers.

Oh shit, Jack thought, his hand going to his forehead; they're going to think we're heathens. He shot a furious look at Sayid, standing beside an older man who was wearing an officers' uniform. The Iraqi shrugged and mouthed Sawyers' name as explanation. Jack turned briefly to the young man who'd led them down here, "Communal living, not much privacy, you lose your sense of modesty pretty quickly." He waved his hand in dismissal of the casual nudity and headed over to Sayid to find out how he'd let the situation get so out of control.

Sayid introduced the man in the white uniform as the ships' Purser. As they got caught up in a discussion of what arrangements had been made for the survivors, Jack decided to let the whole Sawyer incident go. The Purser certainly didn't seemed disturbed by the lack of modesty displayed by his people, so he figured he was just making too much out of it himself.

The bunch from the second boat had filed into the room, mixing with those who had been ferried out first, and were quickly brought up to speed as to what instructions they'd received so far. They all dumped the contents of their various back packs and duffels into the laundry cart, and the young man who'd lead the second boat load to the gym wheeled it out, leaving the Purser as the only crewmember still present. They drifted naturally into their various usual cliques to await their turn at the showers, Boone and Shannon distanced themselves from the rest, still trying to process the sudden rescue they'd given up hope for months ago.

"What's up with those two?" the Purser asked Jack, frowning.

He looked over, Boone and Shannon were obviously arguing, although neither one was actually saying anything. He suddenly realized how menacing Boone looked with the knife sticking out of his belt and the five foot long walking stick in his hand. Jack turned back to the man. "Can you please arrange for someone to get a cane down here? My people are going to have a hard enough time reintegrating without getting strange looks by appearing like they're ready to go all ape shit on people's asses." He used the dodge to try to redirect the fellows' attention away from the fact that the two weren't really talking to each other. As the man pulled out his radio, Jack headed over, reluctantly, to find out what their latest blow out was about, _and_ to give them shit for not speaking.

"Guys?" he questioned, trying not to look at how hard Boone was attempting to keep the weight off his right leg.

"He says he doesn't want to take a shower." Shannon shot over her shoulder at Jack; he thought she appeared both furious _and_ frustrated. She turned back to her brother, "What the fuck?" She demanded, angrily.

"Boone?" Jack fought his urge to look down at the leg and tried to catch the young man's eye.

He couldn't quite meet Jacks' gaze. "I, uh, I've got no one to watch the baby." He responded, quietly.

Jack looked first at Shannon, and wondered why not her, then realized that Boone probably needed her help and wanted them to shower together; he seemed to be leaning a little more dependently on his makeshift cane than usual. Jack then glanced around at all the people waiting their turn at the showers; many of whom had undoubtedly watched Andrew several times. He frowned as he realized that Shannon was right, Boone not wanting to take a shower made no sense. "I'll do it." Jack offered, shrugging.

Boone grimaced a bit and replied falsely, "Thanks," He lifted the makeshift baby carrier over his head and handed Andrew over to Jack.

Shannon pulled the knife out of his belt, dropping it on top of his green bag sitting on the floor by his feet, and his t-shirt out of his pants and over his head; he switched hands on the pole so she could pull it all the way off. "Jeans." She ordered.

He looked at both of them, sighed deeply, then fumbled with one hand at his waist before Shannon reached forward and undid the pants, the weight of his belt sending the well worn denim falling to his ankles. Their eyes naturally followed the path of the jeans. "Jesus, Boone," for a second, she was all concern.

"What happened" Jack handed her the baby and squatted down, looking at the mess that was his right shin.

"I tripped while I was hunting this morning and fell, I'm a clumsy idiot." He tried to dismiss it as nothing, not admitting the truth, knowing Jack felt guilty as hell that the leg still pained him at times.

"You did _not_ trip, you asshole, it gave out on you didn't it? Fuck, I can't believe that you _still_ think you can lie to me and get away with it. I _thought_ you were limping a bit before you left this morning." Shannon immediately realized the truth and blurted it out, not giving any thought at all to Jack's feelings. "You wouldn't fucking take the walking stick, would you? Christ Boone, you are _such_ a dick." She gave him a disgusted look; then turned to go and get him a chair, muttering to herself, while Jack continued to examine his leg. Returning, she pushed it a little harder than necessary up against the back of his knees.

Boone fell into the chair with an "Oof, ouch, fuck." He looked over his shoulder at her, scowling, "Sadistic bitch."

"That hurt? Good." She smacked her hand across the top of his head.

"I want to see you in the infirmary later, before dinner, you understand?" Jack was pissed that he'd tried to hide it.

"Jack, it's nothing." He protested.

Jack stood and easily adopted his 'don't question my authority' voice. "The infirmary, later," he ordered, taking Andrew back from Shannon. He wanted to get away from them before he got caught in the middle of what he was sure was going to be an escalating conflict. He'd never met two people more deeply in love, who fought and argued quite as much as these two did. In fact, he'd been surprised that Shannon had carried the baby to term, what with how worked up she could get.

"Yeah, okay," Boone capitulated, sounding sulky, like a kid who'd been told he had to kiss his ugly Aunt Martha because she'd just gotten him a bike for his birthday.

As Shannon started shaking her finger, furiously, in Boones' face, obviously berating him, Jack suddenly remembered the reason he'd headed over to talk to them in the first place. "Shannon." She turned to him as he interrupted her silent chastisement. "Talking, you know actually speaking, making sounds with your voice? That's what people do in the real world; I suggest you give it a try." He looked at Boone who was obviously enjoying the sight of Shannon getting shit for something. "Don't look so smug, that goes for you too, you're just as bad as your sister. In the last half hour I've started to realize how hard it's going to be for all of us to adjust to being back in society, so don't compound it by drawing unwanted attention to yourselves with your island bestowed gift. It might just turn into a curse instead. And, Boone, the knife? Not so necessary." Jack shook his head. "I don't think I saw one polar bear or boar on the way down here. Just leave it behind," he realized that there was probably no chance of that, it was like an extension of the boys' arm, "or keep it in your bag. We don't need people thinking that you believe you're Rambo or something."

After they both nodded understanding at him, he turned and left. He could hear Shannon start in on Boone again, out loud this time.

After about five minutes of giving him shit, she asked him, "So, asshat, just how long did you think you'd be able to keep this a secret?"

"Well, certainly longer than I managed to, that's for sure," he responded. He reflected that he'd been wrong earlier, she'd pretty much completely skipped acting concerned and had gone straight for the kill.

"We're in the middle of the fucking jungle, you idiot." She shouted, momentarily forgetting their new circumstances.

He looked around the gym, frowning, "Um, well, Shan, about that? Not so much anymore."

"Well we were when you decided to hide it." She always _had_ thought quickly on her feet. "What if an infection had set in? What about gangrene? Jack already almost amputated that leg once, before you stopped him, what if he really _had to_ this time?" She demanded.

"Uh, Shan, I think you would have figured it out sooner rather than later, 'cause I'm pretty sure you would have had my pants off well before it might have become infected." He smirked up at her suggestively, as he removed his last sock, and pulled his jeans off over his feet.

She'd been taking her clothes off, as well, while she'd been railing at him and now stood in just her bra and underwear. Her anger suddenly dissipated, as she realized just how right he was, even in the antiseptic atmosphere of the gymnasium she wanted him. "You are…" she shook her head.

He pulled her into his lap, she was careful not to bump his leg. "Going to kiss you now?" he finished.

She buried her hands in his hair and slid her tongue between his lips, kissing him passionately. His hair was almost down to his shoulders, thick and faded to a light brown with reddish gold sun bleached highlights. He'd asked her if she minded if he let it grow out. He'd always kept it short, first at his mothers' insistence, then for work, which, on reflection, he realized amounted to pretty much the same thing. So he figured that if there was no corporate mandate, or nagging insistence from Sabrina, that made him cut it, he'd really like to just let it grow, for the first time in his life, actually having a choice. She'd expected him to look feminine with his fine features, but instead he'd just gotten even sexier, his full lips making him look very seductive. This might be the last time she'd be able to do this she thought a bit sadly as she grabbed fistfuls of it, she was sure that, now they were back in civilization, he'd probably have it cut at the first opportunity.

As they continued to kiss, he slid his hands up her back, and started undoing her bra.

"Looks like whatever those two were arguing about, they worked out." The Purser glanced over Jack's shoulder, chuckling.

Oh God, now what were his 'problem children' up to, Jack wondered? He closed his eyes briefly, before he turned. Jesus, couldn't they keep their hands off each other for more than fifteen minutes? "Excuse me." He took a deep breath and headed over to them. He was sure they had sex more often than Bonobo Apes. Pretty much everyone in camp had stumbled upon them at one time or another, except Walt, Jack hoped, but he wasn't so sure he hadn't either. If he hadn't been before, the Purser was probably completely convinced by now that they'd all reverted to complete hedonism.

"Guys?" he said to them for the second time in less than half an hour, this time however with far less success as neither one acknowledged him. "Guys?" he repeated more loudly. They pulled apart, Shannon's bra dangling from one of Boone's hands. They looked up at him, more than just a little guilty.

"I agreed to watch Andrew so you could have a shower together, not so you could play slap and tickle, though, god knows with you two, I'm sure they'll end up being pretty much the same thing. Enough with the public foreplay," he looked over at the entrance to the showers, then back at them with a shake of his head. "I think it might be safer if I just bump you to the front of the line. Come with me."

Shannon stood, shedding her underwear while she waited as he worked his way out of his boxers, sliding them carefully over his right shin and over his feet. She reached down and helped him up, picking up the pole from the floor and handing it to him.

They followed Jack to the showers.


	3. Chapter 3

The spray of hot water felt like a little slice of heaven. Shannon let the water sluice over her, relishing the sensation. The stall was fully stocked with all the necessities; she'd pounced on the razor the minute she'd seen it, making Boone stand there and watch exactly what women put themselves through with the thing, ignoring his impatient sighs, and efforts to get past her to the water. She reached for the shampoo and poured some into her palm, finally stepping out from under the showerhead, making room for him. She lathered her hair, moved him so she could rinse it, then did his; he had one hand hooked over the top of wall and the other on her shoulder, concerned about slipping on the wet tiles. His eyes were closed as she massaged her fingers into his scalp. Shannon guided him back under the stream of water, working conditioner into her hair while he rinsed, then doing the same for him. The body-wash smelled wonderful as she soaped them both, bypassing his right shin. Jack would no doubt clean it up, if needed, when Boone saw him later, and she didn't want to take the chance of irritating it with the perfumed soap, or hurting him by trying to wash it. She was still crouched in front of him, when he reached down with his free hand and tipped her face up to look at him.

Boone was smiling suggestively. 'Our first shower together, I was thinking that maybe we should do something to mark the occasion.'

She suddenly realized that she'd been so immersed in the business of getting them both clean for the first time in a year; that not only had she washed every inch of him above the knees without really clueing in on exactly what it was she sliding her hands over, but she also hadn't considered that this _was_ their first actual real shower together. She smiled back at him silently agreeing, then reached her hands out to grasp his hips pushing him cautiously toward the side of the stall, so that he could rest his back against it for support. Shannon leaned forward taking him in her mouth and heard him groan quietly in pleasure. After a minute he started sliding down the wall, she pulled back as he carefully lowered himself to a sitting position, then scooted out from the wall a bit so that she could straddle him. She lifted herself on to him, then moved slowly against him, kissing him deeply. His tongue explored the roof of her mouth, then tangled with hers as his hips pushed up into her. After they were done, they sat quietly on the floor recovering before she rose to her feet and held her hand down to help him up.

There were thick white towels and robes on a table at the end of the shower room. As Shannon fetched some for them she noted that all the other stalls were empty, they'd all been in use when Jack had sent them in, and there'd been more people waiting in line, predictably they'd taken longer than anyone else. She pulled one of the robes on, and starting drying Boone off, then towel dried his hair, wrapping the fabric round his waist when she was done and tucking the end in to secure it. She handed him a comb, then dried herself while he worked the tangles out of his hair. When he was done, she took the comb from him, used it herself, then fussed with his hair, raking her hands through it, fluffing it a bit and tucking it behind his ears.

There was no one else in the side room that held the sinks, mirrors and toilet stalls when they were finally finished in the shower area.

Boone faced his reflection for the first time in a year. He was sure his heart skipped at beat, his breathing a little shaky, as he stared back at the stranger looking at him. He felt like he'd been an unwilling participant in some bizarre Extreme Makeover, Craphole Island edition, but instead of better, he'd turned out worse. The eyes were his, sure, he'd never mistake those, but the rest; Christ, he wondered, who the fuck was this guy? He was thinner, but he'd known that, what he hadn't realized was how muscular he'd gotten, his island toned shape was completely different from the bought and paid for gym membership physique he'd had when they crashed. His gaze took in the scars on his chest, he'd been able to see them the past ten months, of course, just by looking down, but it was so different looking at them in the mirror, when he could see all of himself. His moved his hand, almost startled when the strange man in the mirror copied his gesture, and traced the lines of the angriest looking ones. Jack had told him they'd all fade over time; he sure hoped that the doctor was right. He reflected that if they looked this bad to him now, how repulsive must they have been when fresh? He was tanned, darker than he had ever been, even for a native Californian, and his beard? He breathed a little laugh, he'd always been clean shaven, but found he kind of liked the short sparse beard and mustache that covered the lower half of his face. Shannon had kept it trimmed for him; she hadn't minded the longer hair, in fact she'd secretly preferred it, but she'd drawn the line at kissing what she'd referred to as a Grizzly Adams look alike. The biggest shock was his hair, though just combed and still wet, he couldn't believe how different it made him appear. If he shaved, he estimated he'd look about sixteen. The shaggy strands of his bangs fell across his forehead and back to where she'd tucked them behind his ears, the sides and back brushed his shoulders. When it was dry, he figured he could easily be first in line to be cast in a Partridge Family remake.

He turned awkwardly to Shannon, resting his right hip against the edge of the sink for support. She'd already surveyed her appearance in the mirror, dropping the robe to the floor to check herself out, and been very pleased with what she'd seen. A great tan, and thinner, okay, a real bonus, she thought, she'd gotten her figure back and then some after giving birth. During her appraisal of herself she'd gotten a sense of disquiet from him and had turned, putting the robe back on and waiting for him. He seemed mesmerized by his appearance, most of the change had happened so gradually, she actually hadn't even considered how different he would look to himself.

She was standing watching him, her head tipped, an inquiring look on her face. He gestured to his chest, not meeting her eyes "I sure hope you got a discount for damaged goods." He was biting at his bottom lip and squeezing his brows together, looking anywhere but at her.

She reached out and cupped his chin, bringing his head up to face her, concern in her eyes. She waited for him to continue. He squeezed his eyes closed before opening them to meet her gaze. He shook his head, "What happened to careful, controlled, precise Boone Carlyle? I don't recognize myself, Shan. Who the fuck is this? What happened to _me?_" he cried, looking to her for answers.

"You're _still_ you, Boone," she assured him, "but you've grown up, you had to. You rose to the occasion, like you _always_ do. You brought us food, you protected the camp…"

He turned away at that and moaned a quiet "No" as he remembered the blood on his knife, the violent struggle in the jungle, the slackness of the face inches from his own before he'd let the body slide to the ground.

She grabbed his chin again and forced him to look at her. "You protected your _family, _Boone." She searched his eyes waiting for acknowledgement. He nodded slightly, but still looked disturbed. "You helped, you always help, it's what you do. You may not think you look like yourself, but it's who I'm used to. I love how you look, the crazy 70's hair, even the macho scars, but that's only just your appearance, who I really love is in here, you're still you in here." She tapped the side of his head. "Neither one of us are the same people we were a year ago, you can't possibly imagine that we would be. Even _you_ aren't that stupid." She smiled at him, trying to get the haunted look out of his eyes. "If it's freaking you out so much, we'll get you a hair cut as soon as we're out of here, then maybe you won't feel like you look like such a stranger. Okay?" she raised her eyebrows and grinned, shaking her head a bit.

"Okay." He nodded, and then sighed, "I don't know why you love me. I'm so fucked up."

"I don't either, so don't press the point. I might just decide that I'm delusional." She smirked.

"No not delusional, just in love with your brother." He joked then frowned, as it suddenly dawned on him what they faced when they got home.

"You're not really my brother." She kissed him, not picking up on the realization to which he'd just come.

He just hoped their friends and family remembered that. Even if they did, he knew they were in for more than just a few awkward moments.

"Dude?" They turned at Hurley's voice. He stood at the entrance to the room, dressed in clean clothes. "Jack said to give you this." He held out a cane, a little hesitantly. He knew how much Boone disliked his intermittent requirement for one.

Boone sighed. "Thanks, man." He took it, hating to admit that he needed it.

"Uh, dude? Jack said to bring the old one out, sorry." He waited while Boone got the walking stick from where he'd propped it up against the wall between the sinks and handed it to him.

"Bitchin' to be clean," he commented before he turned to leave.

They continued getting ready in the bathroom, availing themselves of the various toiletries that had been laid out. He waited while she used the hair dryer, then protested futilely for a minute before allowing her to use it on him, keeping his eyes closed until she finished. She bit her lip as she worked, becoming increasingly amused with the results as the dryer, and the brush she was using, added volume and shape to his hair. Son of a bitch, she thought when she was done; it actually looks prettier than mine. "Okay, Boone, you can look. Now don't freak," she cautioned.

"Thanks for saying that Shan," he said snarkily. "I wasn't planning on freaking, but I'm probably going to now." He turned to the mirror and opened his eyes cautiously. "Oh, Jesus, Shannon, you've finally fucking turned me into a girl."

The laughter she'd been trying to contain bubbled to the surface, and she started to giggle.

He glared at her, the effect somewhat diminished by the soft under-curl she'd worked into the bottom of his hair. "You bitch, get it out, right the fuck now. Make it look, I don't know, less feminine. Christ, please don't tell me I looked this stupid on the island."

"No, it dried more like Sawyer's, straight, but not as stringy as his. I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist. You were taking yourself so seriously earlier." She fought to stifle her laughter.

"Guys, Sun wants to know…"Charlie suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Holy shit mate." He dissolved into laughter. "You look…" He fought to get the words out. "You look like my ma." He covered his mouth with his hand and laughed till tears started, while Boone clenched his jaw and shot nasty looks between the two of them.

Finally having had enough, Boone grabbed the cane, brushed passed Charlie, and headed out to the gym. He could hear them still laughing behind him.

He scanned the gym looking for Sun, when he located her, he realized that she was holding Andrew and headed towards her. Her eyes got wide as she watched him approach, but she managed not to laugh in his face. "Charlie said you wanted to see me." He hadn't actually, but Boone assumed that that's what he was getting around to, before he'd lost it.

"We would like to go and eat. I just wondered how much longer you were going to be." Sun was very glad just then of her culture's habit of carefully controlling their emotions.

Shannon came up behind him at that point. Sun smiled at her and nodded, just happy to have something else to focus on other than Boone. "And, I think he might be hungry." She added, holding the baby out to his mother. Boone noticed that he'd been bathed and freshly diapered. As Shannon took Andrew and headed off to a quiet corner, Boone thanked Sun, then turned to Jin and, in flawless Korean, extended his gratitude to him as well.

"You are welcome, although I do not believe I like your hair." The man responded haltingly in English; then they both started laughing reservedly at him. Boone rolled his eyes and stalked away, as best he could while leaning on a cane, trying to conserve a little bit of dignity.

He rummaged through the laundry hamper of clean clothes till he found something for them both to wear, ignoring the amused glances thrown his way. 'Fucking bitch, fucking bitch,' he kept repeating to himself. He headed across the room to where she sat.

"Here," he said thrusting a change of clothes at her. She looked up from the baby at her breast and grabbed the handful of clothes he was holding out.

"I'm sorry," she offered hopefully.

"Yeah, right, sure you are, just like you're sorry Boyz II Men didn't eclipse U2, or that 2gether didn't get renewed." He glowered.

"I liked Evan Farmer." She teased, attempting to diffuse his anger.

"Yeah, and I liked looking like a guy. Get your shit together," he ordered, "we're getting me a haircut, _now_."

After being read the riot act by a highly amused Jack, and receiving a reminder that Boone was to see him in the infirmary before dinner, they finally left the confines of the gym to find a hair salon and explore the rest of the ship.


	4. Chapter 4

They'd gone on a family cruise vacation when they were in their early teens, and both had enjoyed it, though for vastly divergent reasons. Their parents had quickly become distracted by the social scene, so they'd been pretty much left to run wild, although Shannon's idea of wild was considerably different from Boone's. He remembered watching her flirting outrageously by the pool with any guy who'd pay attention to her, which, of course, had been most of them. Even at thirteen, Shannon had already known just how to wrap some poor unsuspecting patsy around her finger. He'd caught her coming back to their room on several occasions with the smell of alcohol on her breath, after she'd conned some guy into getting a drink for her. It had been torture for him to share the small room with her, especially when she'd slipped into his bed, startling him awake, when she'd returned to the room after one particularly adventurous night. She'd quickly fallen asleep after kissing his cheek, snuggling into the curve of his body. He'd laid awake the rest of the night, his arm around her shoulder, just staring at her, so lost in the closeness of her; the feel of her pressed up against him, that he'd had to force himself to remember to breathe.

They wandered down the corridors, trying to figure out just how to get to the area of the ship where the shops were located. He stopped frequently at first, trying to get used to the shorter cane and adjusting the strap of the baby carrier across his shoulders, attempting to get the weight distribution right. She finally asked him if he wanted her to carry Andrew, but he declined, choosing instead to get her to carry his green bag for him. Things had gone better after that.

They started nervously every time one of the stateroom doors opened, Boone's hand dropping automatically to grab the hilt of his knife, but only encountering empty space. He knew Jack was right, that there was no threat onboard, but he still felt naked without it, and fought the urge to take it out of his bag and put it back in its' accustomed place.

They finally emerged into the shopping concourse. It was crowded with people; at least to them it seemed so. Shannon fumbled for his hand and moved to stand close to him, a little edgy. Glancing around, she spied a pub over his shoulder. "Buy you a drink?"

"What about my hair?" he didn't look at her, just continued staring at the unaccustomed sight of so many strangers.

"I think it'll still be there after we have a drink. Come on." She tugged at him.

"I don't think Jack would approve." Boone looked at her, a little doubtful.

"Then I guess it's a good thing I didn't offer to buy _him_ one." She inclined her head toward the establishment. 'I could really use one, this is a little freaky.' She added silently.

'No shit,' he agreed.

They found seats at the bar and Boone ordered for them.

Shannon smiled at him somewhat slyly, 'This is the first time I've bought you a drink. Another first, you think it calls for sex too?' She slid her hand up his leg.

He tried to push it off, but she just moved it higher, brushing her fingers against his zipper. 'Jesus Shan, not in the bar,' he pleaded silently.

She just smiled at him, as the bartender brought their drinks, finally removing her hand, much to Boone's relief.

He poured the amber liquid into the frosted glass, tipping it carefully to minimize the foam, and raised it to her in a toast. "Here's to being clean."

'Here's to being very, very dirty later.' She thought back.

He just about choked on the mouthful of beer he'd already taken.

She laughed. "You remembered what I like." She commented as she sipped at the white wine.

"Shan, we were on a desert island for a year, not some guinea pigs in a government mind wipe experiment, of course I know what you drink." He made a face at her like she was an idiot.

"You guys from the plane crash then?" the bartender asked.

"Yeah," Boone acknowledged.

Any questions the guy might have had were forestalled by the arrival of the next customer.

"Well, well, if it ain't the Bobsey twins, the last two people I'd 'a figured would head for the nearest waterin' hole," Sawyer's voice came from the entrance. "Sticks, and Met…" he stopped as Boone leaned back, so he could see around Shannon.

"Boy howdy, but I do believe you bear more than a passin' resemblance to my cousin Sharla-Anne." He commented on seeing Boone's hair.

God, Boone thought, how is it not surprising that Sawyer has a cousin with a name that could easily be attributed to a stripper.

"So, Sticks, this your doin'?" he asked, laughing.

She nodded, smiling evilly, sharing the joke with Sawyer, her back to Boone.

He winked at her, making sure Boone couldn't see him.

Sawyer made his way to the stool on Boone's left and sat. "I think Prince Valiant called, he wants his hair back."

"Asshole," Boone muttered under his breath.

"Whiskey, my good man, and keep 'em comin'." He ordered the bar keep.

Shannon leaned forward and they started kibitzing. Sawyer threw back the first whiskey; then asked for another. Boone barely contributed to the conversation at all as they fell into a familiar rhythm. The two of them had spent a lot of time together in the final couple of weeks of Shannon's pregnancy; when all she'd wanted to do was sit in the shade on the beach.

"So you two thought about how you're gonna explain your little rug rat there?" He asked.

"What?" Boone was puzzled.

"Well seein' as you both call the same woman momma, I'm thinkin' it's gonna be a little interestin'." Sawyer sneered.

The short, balding, dark haired bartender looked up startled and glanced at the two young people; they looked no more alike that he looked like the tall, lanky, blonde, obnoxious southerner.

"That didn't stop _your_ pare…" Boone bit off the rest of the words, as Shannon let out a gasp, his eyes widened and he cursed himself. Oh fuck, he thought, open mouth, insert foot. Over the course of the past year, many of them had learned of the tragedy of Sawyer's parents' death, he couldn't believe that he'd been about to make a flippant, and untrue, remark about them.

"You gonna finish that thought, Metro?" Sawyer asked dangerously.

"No, man, I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean it. It was stupid, I was…I know that they weren't…Oh, shit." Boone babbled sincerely apologetic, until he realized what a fool he sounded like. He paused and asked hesitantly, "You're not going to punch me now, are you?" The silence stretched out uncomfortably as he waited for an answer.

"And ruin that pretty, pretty hair?" Sawyer relaxed marginally. "'Sides which, you got the ultimate body guard there." He indicated Andrew, nestled in the sling against Boone's chest.

"Yeah, right," Boone smiled nervously. "Uh, we gotta go. The hair, you know, we've…_I've_ got an appointment." He said, even though he didn't. He slid off the stool and held his hand out behind him for the wallet that he knew Shannon already had out. He opened it and pulled a fifty out putting it on the bar.

The bartender stepped forward, sliding the money back towards him. "No sir, the Captain already said anything for the crash survivors was comp."

"I pay my way," Boone insisted, suddenly, acting on impulse he reached in and pulled out another twenty, "and his."

The last of the anger left Sawyer's face, as he glanced, surprised, at the seventy dollars on the bar. Even at shipboard prices, he figured that'd keep the whiskey coming for a good long while. "Well, ain't that somethin'? Thanks Boone. No hard feelin's?"

Boone looked at him for a minute, then smiled and breathed a short laugh, "No, man, no hard feelings." He took the hand that Sawyer suddenly held out and shook it.

Shannon brushed past him and kissed Sawyer's cheek. "Don't drink up all that money on your own, please?"

"No darlin' I wasn't plannin' on it." He turned to eye a brunette sitting by herself a few seats down.

"You're going to break my heart." She joked.

"No Sticks, if that ever happens I think Metro'll be the only one who could do that to you. And I don't see that comin' about. You're more likely to do him in." He reached out and brushed his thumb against her cheek.

"Please be careful." She reached down and squeezed his knee before turning and following Boone out of the bar.

They found a hair salon without too much trouble, and were pleasantly surprised that there was a chair available immediately.

"Just a cut?" the receptionist asked.

Shannon held her right hand out in front of her, "No, a manicure as well." She decided. "And him too." She indicated Boone.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

She looked at him calmly, "You too."

He shook his head. She grabbed the hand that wasn't curled around the handle of the cane and held it up in front of him. "These? Are not touching my body again until you have a manicure," she informed him. The girl behind the desk tried unsuccessfully to hide a laugh.

"Fine." He spat, gritting his teeth. "But we don't have much time, _princess._ I still have to see Jack, so they'd better be able to cut hair _and _do our stupid nails at the same time." He thought he'd found an out.

"Of course, sir, that's no problem at all." The receptionist assured him. He just sighed in resignation.

About ten minutes after Shannon went in; a no-show meant there was another opening. When the receptionist offered to watch Andrew, Boone was only too happy to take a seat in the suddenly available chair.

He grimaced again at his reflection as he was faced with himself in a mirror once more. "So you just want a trim?" The stylist asked.

"Jesus no." he blurted out before he could stop himself. How could she think he actually wanted to look like this? Just a trim, was she nuts? "I'm sorry," he apologized as he noticed her startled reflection. "It's just that it hasn't been cut in a year, and I didn't realize how long it was, or quite how ridiculous it looked." He realized that her expression had changed from startled to puzzled, "We're from the plane crash," he explained.

"Oh, wow I heard about you guys." She looked like she was ready to launch into a session of twenty questions.

"Look, I'm sorry, I'm sure you've got questions, but I hope you understand that it's just all too much right now. Please?" He smiled what Shannon referred to as his Carlyle Enterprises smile, meaning that it'd assure any woman that she was the centre of his universe. It had convinced any number of recalcitrant women that he knew best, and had always been one of his most successful weapons in business.

Any thought of asking him any questions just simply vanished from her mind as she smiled warmly back at him. "So what're we doing then?"

He glanced around then pointed at a man in, maybe, his late forties, seated in the reception area, who had what in his estimation was a reasonable length of hair. Boone guessed, based on the purse that the man had in his lap that he was waiting for his wife. If not then the guy seriously had to rethink his choice of handbag, because it certainly didn't go with his Hawaiian shirt, but then, Boone reflected, what really _ever_ went with a Hawaiian shirt? Oh, god, I'm actually critiquing some guys' apparel, he thought in dismay, I'm such a loser.

The manicurist arrived, so they spun the chair away from the mirror, and both got to work. He found himself closing his eyes and relaxing as they proceeded, he hadn't been pampered like this in ages.

They had just finished when he sensed Shannon's approach, and opened his eyes. She'd had her make up done too, she looked fabulous he thought, but wasn't happy about the look on her face as she took in his altered appearance.

"Uhm, jeeze Boone," she grimaced, "did you actually _explain _how you wanted your hair to look?"

"Well there was a guy in the reception area, and I just said that the length of his hair was about right." Understanding seemed to flood into him as he grasped the import of her question. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Please do _not_ tell me I look even more ridiculous than I did when we came in." He spun the chair around to face the mirror. "Oh shit, I look like an idiot!" he cried.

"Well you _do_ look a little like Sheldon Dorfenberger, the guy who ran the A.V. club in high school." She winced.

His hair was combed flat and parted carefully on one side. He looked like some cheerleaders' dad; all he was missing was the cardigan and glasses. "Fuck, Shan, no, not twice in one day, fix it, please." He was almost vibrating in the chair in anxiety.

"Boone, calm down." She laughed at how worked up he was.

The stylist stood behind the chair, horrified, she'd never had a customer react quite so badly.

"Shan, I can't take any more." He was close to the breaking point, she abruptly realized, shocked, the emotions and stresses of the day suddenly catching up with him.

"Okay, calm down," she said it slowly, soothingly, stroking his arm gently. She watched while some of the tension drained out of him. She grabbed a spray bottle of water off the edge of the stylists' cart and wet his hair down, then ruffled her fingers through it, eliminating the part. She pulled one of the hair dryers out and used it on him, then used her fingers to rake it into the messy non-style she recalled he'd worn it in precrash. "Okay?"

"Yeah, I guess." God, he sounded like a spoiled child. "It's better, thanks."

"Boone, you seriously need to cut back on the caffeine. It's only hair." She tried to joke him into a better mood.

"I'm sorry, I'm an idiot." He apologized.

"Yeah, I'm sorry you're an idiot too." She smiled at him. "Come on, let's get you to Jack." She held her hand down to help him up.

He stood at the front counter, his wallet in his hand, Andrew hung back across his chest. "Well, let's see if my mother's had me declared dead," he commented, pulling his Amex out and handing it to the girl. She looked at him strangely, perturbed by the comment, then swiped the card.

Somewhere in Los Angeles a phone rang and a secretary knocked on a lawyers' door. "Boone Carlyle's Amex has just been used," the woman advised the man behind the desk, "on a cruise ship. What do you want me to tell them?"

"Authorize the charge."


	5. Chapter 5

They spent some time wandering around the ship looking for the infirmary before Shannon finally insisted that they ask for directions. What was with guys and asking for directions anyway, she wondered? Here he was dragging his ass, obviously exhausted, and her stupid brother still kept insisting that he knew where he was going. They did an about face and headed back the way they'd come, Boone looking a little embarrassed, after the helpful crewmember Shannon flagged down told them exactly how to get to their destination.

'Asswipe,' she sneered at Boone silently.

"Like you knew any better," he snarked.

"At least _I _wasn't above asking for directions, we could have been there, been done and be eating by now, but, oh no, Mr. Cruise Director knows the exact layout of the boat." She threw at him.

"Ship," he corrected automatically.

"What_ever_." She flipped her hair and stalked off, hearing him struggling behind her, trying to keep up.

God, he thought, why do we always have to devolve to petty sibling infighting? We're someone's parents for Christ's sake. He looked up at her retreating back.

We're acting like a pair twelve year olds, she realized ruefully, stopping in the middle of the corridor and turning back to him. "Boone, stop," she held up her hands, he made his way up to her before halting. "Let me carry the baby, please?"

"I can manage." He started stubbornly, before shaking his head. He took a deep breath, "No I can't, who am I kidding?" He finally gave in to the obvious. "Yeah, thanks."

Even with Shannon carrying Andrew, by the time they reached the infirmary Boone had broken out into a mild sweat and his cheeks were flushed.

Jack was sitting on the edge of a desk, chatting with a man who was obviously the ship's doctor, when they entered. "Finally, I'd just about given up on you."

"Hair." Boone explained needlessly, pointing to his head.

"Yeah, I'm normally pretty observant, I noticed the shorter hair. Now I want to take a closer look at that leg." Jack stood and beckoned them into an adjoining room. The ship's doctor, who Jack introduced as Alan, followed them in.

Shannon stood to one side, while Boone lifted himself onto an examining table and swung around bringing his legs up and raising his pant leg, exposing the bruised and broken area. Jack bent over it, then pressed his fingers against the side of the bone. Though Boone tried to catch it before it escaped, a small whimper slipped out, as pain exploded from the area, he suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous.

"You've bruised the bone pretty badly," Jack commented. "That's why it hurts so much, that and the fact that you've done it exactly where the break was. I want you to get it x-rayed as soon as we get back." Jack took a deep breath before continuing, wondering why he was always breaking bad news to these two. "It might need to be rebroken and require surgery. Not because of the _result _of this morning's fall, but because of the _fact_ of the fall. It should be stronger by now."

Boone protested that he only fell because of the rain that threatened. There was no way he was going to go through any more than he already had. The thought of surgery and more months of immobility terrified him. Shannon moved to his side and rubbed his back soothingly, listening intently, but refraining from comment as he and Jack continued their discussion. She figured they could discuss it in private later.

"You're an adult; you can make your own decision; and I know you well enough to know that you'll do whatever the hell you want anyway, so I might as well save my breath." The Beechcraft incident had completely turned Boone around, it was almost impossible now to get him to do something he wasn't in complete agreement with; that is unless you were Shannon; his hero worship complex had been totally eliminated. Jack gave up and moved his attention back to Boone's leg, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and starting to swab it down. Shannon watched while Boone clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table, suffering in silence. Andrew started fussing quietly, picking up on Boone's distress.

"Jack," she tried to get his attention without alerting the other doctor to the baby's odd behaviour. "Jack," she tried again more insistently, "enough."

When he glanced up at her, she indicated the baby with a nod of her head. He immediately grasped the situation, giving credence to his claim earlier in the outer office that he was normally pretty observant. "I think that'll take care of it." Boone relaxed visibly as Jack moved back.

"I can go?" Boone asked, hopefully.

"Yeah, just hold on a sec, I want to get you something." Jack turned to the other doctor and requested some kind of medication, as Boone pulled his pant leg down and swung his feet to the floor. He slid off the table and kept right on going, the dizziness and nausea having suddenly returned. Jack spun back to catch him, just before he did a total face plant.

"I, uh, I didn't mean for _that_ to happen." He stammered.

Jack sat him back on the table. "You eat today?"

"Yeah, of course I did." He lied smoothly.

Jack looked at him for a minute, remembering that Boone had left that morning before any one in camp other than Shannon had awoken, and tried to gauge his honesty before turning back to Alan who had returned with a bottle of the pills Jack had asked him for. Jack opened the bottle and shook two tablets out, "take these."

"Why? What are they?" Boone looked at them suspiciously.

"Just for the pain, which is what you're giving me right now. Why do you two always have to be so difficult?" Just before Boone picked them off his palm Jack closed his hand. "You're sure you ate today?" Boone nodded. Jack was pretty positive he was lying, but opened his hand again. "Go, just go, take the pills and go have dinner," he ordered in tired resignation.

Boone was a little more cautious with his second attempt to stand, the cane firmly grasped in his hand even before he put his feet on the floor. With the bottle containing the balance of the prescription safely tucked away in his green bag, they left, after Alan provided them with directions to the closest dining room.

His directions were excellent and they found themselves at their intended destination without too much trouble. There was a bit of a disagreement when they went to enter, the crewmember at the entrance citing a dress code, which apparently didn't extend to well-worn jeans, and sleeveless tees, but when they explained that they were from the plane crash, the man couldn't have been more gracious.

It was buffet style, so they grabbed plates and, slightly breathless at the sight of so much food, moved down the overwhelming display. Shannon serving both of them, they reached the end with only a few items on their plates, completely disoriented by the experience. She looked up at Boone sharply as he started to sway, his eyes were closed and he was white as a sheet, she was afraid he was going to faint. She snatched the plate out of his hand and dropped both plates right in the middle of a tray of cold cuts, grasping his elbow and guiding him carefully to the closest chair. The man already occupying it jumped out of the way just before she sat Boone on his lap. Shannon crouched down in front of him watching him carefully, reaching out and plucking a glass of water from the hand of the astonished woman sitting in the adjacent chair. She pressed it into his hand and guided it to his lips. He sipped at it gratefully.

'You're an idiot. You shouldn't have lied to Jack and told him that you ate today. He probably never would have given you those pills if he'd known the truth.' She berated him, silently.

"I didn't want him to feel bad." The colour was already starting to return to his face.

'So you figured risking fainting was a better alternative?' She shook her head at his stupidity.

"I just wanted to get out of there, Shan." He opened his eyes slowly, feeling better until he looked around.

The other diners at the table to which she'd led him were staring at them openly, listening to his one sided conversation. Oh shit, he thought, great way _not_ to attract attention. Let's see, they weren't dressed appropriately, he'd caused a scene by almost fainting, and now she'd unwittingly made it appear that he'd been talking to himself. Fan-fucking-tastic, he congratulated them.

He looked at her and raised his eyebrows, 'We're so screwed.' He shot her a nasty smile. "Yeah," he babbled, improvising something to get them out of the situation. "Getting out of there, good," he looked around randomly, trying, successfully, to appear completely disoriented.

"Sorry, he gets this way sometimes, after effects of the plane crash, it addled his brains," as if they weren't already scrambled before, she added silently. Shannon smiled at the people staring at them and stood, helping him to his feet, when he took her hand he squeezed it much harder than he had to, just to pay her back for her added comment. As she led him away, she cursed him, 'You are so burning in hell, Boone Carlyle.'

'And you are fucking coming with me, you bitch.'

Shannon settled him at an unoccupied table, lifted the baby carrier off her shoulder and handed Andrew to Boone, then went to retrieve their abandoned plates. They ate in silence, relishing each bite; he kept holding items out to her, watching with parted lips, his breathing heavy as she bit into what he was holding in his fingers, their meal gradually turning into nothing but sexual foreplay.

'Christ, I want you.' He suddenly announced, not able to hold back any longer.

She smiled at him in satisfaction; congratulating herself silently that her actions had brought about her intended result.

Shannon rose and held out her hand, he hung the baby carrier over his shoulder and, taking her hand, stood as well. She led them to a maintenance closet she'd seen on the way to the dining room. Glancing up and down the corridor, she opened the door and pulled him inside, locking the door behind them. He lifted the baby off over his head and settled Andrew safely in a corner of the room. They were panting and moaning quietly as they stripped each other naked, their hands were as hungry as their mouths. Boone bit her neck, kissed her lips, ran his mouth along her collar bone nipping gently, while his hands travelled up and down her body, one finally sliding between her legs, her tongue explored the surface of his ear, then the hollow at the base of his throat, finding his mouth again as she stroked him. They frantically cleared enough floor space in the tiny cramped area to lie down, he was inside her before it even registered, moving against her, buried deep inside her body, both of them riding the sensation to its' climax.

They lay quietly side-by-side on the floor, their fingers intertwined; feeling dopey and sated, when the doorknob suddenly rattled. They jolted to a sitting position, as a male voice outside the door cursed and muttered something about having to go for the key. They looked at each other in panic, and scrambled crazily for their clothes, dressing in record time. Boone was zipping his jeans, and Shannon had just picked Andrew up from where Boone had carefully tucked him away earlier, when the door opened and a man entered, doing a classic double take on seeing them.

"What are you," the man started, then made any need on their part to try to explain their presence completely unnecessary with his next assumption. "Oh, breast feeding," he smiled and nodded. "Yeah my wife could never do it in public either, but really couldn't you have just gone to your room?"

"Yeah, that's it, breast feeding, that's right, that's what we, I mean, _she_ was doing." Boone seized on the man's opening. Shannon stared at him, while he babbled like a frantic college student caught smuggling the school mascot into the dean's office. Christ he was a bad liar sometimes.

She broke in before he embarrassed himself any further. "We don't have a room," she explained. "We're from the plane crash. With the craziness of the day, I just completely gapped feeding the baby. Bad mom, I know. He started fussing, so we ducked in here. Sorry."

They made their way back to their temporary quarters, Andrew once again resting against Boone's chest. Boone realized that already his leg felt better, probably a combination of being away from the weather, his first good meal in a year and the meds that Jack had given him. He wasn't leaning anywhere near as dependently on the cane as he'd been earlier. It considerably buoyed his spirits, that and their little session in the maintenance closet, well, and rescue, he couldn't leave that out. Christ he thought, what if his mother knew he was having sex in a broom closet like some degenerate, and with his own sister as well. He glanced at Shannon; they were really going to have to talk about that. Sawyer had been right; it was going to prove interesting explaining everything to Sabrina.

Shannon pushed open one of the double doors and held it for him. Claire spotted them as they entered, and hurried over. "There was a message for you earlier." She advised Boone.

"Message?" he frowned and asked doubtfully, "Uhm, no, no way, how? No one knows I'm here. There's been some mistake," he protested.

She shrugged, "I don't know, the guy just said there'd been a phone call for you. Here's the note he left." She held it out to him.

He unfolded the paper and stared at it dumbfounded. Shannon looked at him, waiting for him to share the information. He looked up at her blinking in confusion, "My mother called."


	6. Chapter 6

Boone was sitting on one of the cots leaning back against the wall, Shannon sitting beside him; he was watching her feed Andrew. He knew that as soon as they got back to civilization she'd switch the baby over to formula. She hated breast feeding; saying that she found it so demeaning; he didn't really get that at all. He often wondered what she'd been doing when they handed out the maternal instinct that she so obviously lacked. Probably shopping, he'd always figured.

The message was clutched in his hand. Boone reached forward and pulled her hair back, tucking it behind her ear so he could see her profile. God, he thought, it still amazed him that, impossibly, she loved him.

Shannon glanced at him, smiling softly. He'd been quiet since learning of the call from Sabrina. She wondered what he was thinking; then turned back to the baby.

'You're wondering what I'm thinking?' he frowned.

She shrugged.

"You don't already know?" he teased.

"Sometimes I allow you your privacy. I like to keep you on your toes, that way you never know when 'Big Brother' is watching, or listening." She said loftily, shooting a grin back in his direction.

Boone didn't know if she was making a reference to the reality T.V. show or the book 1984. Most probably the former, he decided, he couldn't picture her reading George Orwell, George Harrison maybe, Orwell never.

He chuckled, if there was one thing she was good at, it was keeping him off balance. "I was just thinking that I still can't believe that you love me," he leaned forward and kissed her temple.

"And what are you going to do about that?" she nodded toward the piece of paper.

He took a deep breath before answering. "You know, I loved my job, every day I went in there, I loved it. I know I shocked pretty much everyone, I was so young, _and _the owner's son, they all expected that it'd just be a figurehead position. Let the mama's boy in the corner office come in every day, put in his eight hours surfing the internet, calling bimbos for dates, whatever," he shrugged, "and then get in his fancy car and go home. But I didn't do that; I was good, really, really good at it. They all respected me, I was the go to guy, it was exciting." He paused. "I can't see myself doing it anymore. It all seems so empty and pointless, just pushing paper." He stared off into space for a while. "Look at these people, Shan." He shook his head then turned to her; she handed Andrew over and started adjusting her top. "Can you honestly see any of them pulling a nine to five ever again after what we've been through?"

"Not really." Shannon realized he was right.

"And yet, sadly, most of them are going to have to. That's where we're different, _I_ don't have to, the advantages of wealth; sometimes you take them for granted. On the island it was a level playing field, I wasn't any different from anybody else, but we're not _on_ the island anymore, and now suddenly _I_ have choices that they don't; doesn't seem fair, somehow." Boone stared at the floor.

"What's that got to do with whether you call your mother back or not?" she wasn't following.

"I don't want to face reality, I guess. I'm going to have to tell her I'm not coming back to work for her. I know I should have discussed it with you, it's not the kind of decision I can make on my own anymore, we're a couple now, and I know I need to run all the major stuff by you, I'm sorry. Is it okay if I don't go back?" he asked.

Shannon was touched he'd been worried that he'd made the choice on his own. "Of course. Boone it's still _your_ life, I may be more of a part of it now than I was in the past, but, bottom line, you do what you need to. If you don't want to go back to work for your mother, then don't." Shannon was actually relieved that she was getting him away from the bitch.

He reach out and cupped her cheek briefly, then took a deep breath, before continuing. "Then there's us, not just you and me and how we are now, how our relationship's changed, but all _three_ of us. You think that's not going to rock her foundation?"

"You could say he's someone else's, and we just took him in," she offered, joking.

"Yeah, I could," he laughed. "She'd _so_ buy that, it'd explain everything, like why you're lactating and he's got my grey eyes, yeah, I can totally see her falling for it."

"So you're _not_ going to call her." She surmised.

"It's chicken shit of me, I know that, but no, I'm not. It's not like I'd actually tell her any of that on the phone, but just talking to her would make it front and centre, and I want to postpone that a little if I can." Boone crumpled the paper and threw it in a trashcan. "We should get some sleep, to say it's been a pretty exciting day would be putting it mildly."

A couple of collapsible cribs had been brought down from the ship's daycare for Aaron and Andrew, Boone settled their son in one of them while Shannon pushed two of the cots together. They lay down and tried to get comfortable, as someone killed the lights, and silence fell over the room. They both stared at the ceiling, close but not able to snuggle together because of the construction of the cots. After half an hour, Boone lifted his head and looked over at her. 'I can't sleep.'

'Me neither.' She admitted. 'I miss your arm around me, and the sounds of the night.'

They gathered blankets and pillows and the baby and crept as quietly as they could out of the gym and up to the deck of the ship. Finding a spot near one of the pools where two walls met creating a sheltering corner, they curled up spooned together and finally dozed off.

The next morning, Jack awoke to the sight of the Purser leaning over him. "Dr. Sheppard?"

Jack shook off the last remnants of sleep. "Yeah?"

"Several of your people went up to sleep on the deck during the night, the staff needs to set up for today, but they're kind of in the way." The man apologized. "I thought it might be best if you woke them."

"Okay, no problem," Jack responded, sighing, when was the unwanted additional responsibility going to end?

He found his way to the deck, and stood there for a moment trying to get a read on where he thought everyone was; then headed over to the pool area.

He bent down and touched Boone's shoulder.

In the time between one heartbeat and the next, Jack was on his back, Boone's knife at his throat.

The crewmember who'd been approaching with an armload of towels, dropped them to the deck and stared in shocked horror, frozen to the spot.

Jack's eyes were huge; he was breathing rapidly, "Boone, it's Jack."

The boy was on his knees; Shannon was crouched by his side, ready to run. Boone looked down into the familiar face and relaxed, sitting back on his legs. He was shaking as the adrenaline coursed through him. Shannon sat down and leaned against his shoulder, her breathing unsteady.

Jack sat up, cursing himself for becoming lax in the civilized environment. Of course Boone would react the same way he would have reacted on the island when roused suddenly from sleep. "I'm sorry, I should have known better." He apologized.

Boone nodded. "Yeah," he agreed, taking a deep breath.

The crewmember couldn't understand why the guy who'd been attacked was apologizing. He shook himself and bent to retrieve the dropped towels, getting on with his job. This was certainly going to prove to be interesting gossip for when he met his friends after his shift, he reflected.

Something suddenly occurred to Jack. "Why did you have your knife out? I thought I told you to keep it in your bag."

Boone shrugged, "Force of habit, I guess. Honestly, I don't even remember taking it out."

Jack reached out and patted him on the shoulder, rising. "Put it away, Boone." The young man nodded.

After breakfast Shannon suggested shopping. Boone agreed after adding the restriction that they'd only buy a few things. "We're going to be paying ridiculous prices for stuff, Shan. We're like a captive audience."

"You are, without a doubt, the most pathetic rich person I've ever met." She huffed a sigh, and capitulated to his imposed limitation.

They found the shopping concourse without any trouble this time, and she immediately headed for a lingerie store. Boone slumped his shoulders in resignation and followed in her wake.

He watched for a bit while she browsed through the place, then decided to look through it on his own. He was feeling much better, that morning he'd taken two more of the pills that Jack had given him the night before, and had, happily, left the cane behind. His leg was throbbing some, but he was barely limping at all. Something in one of the displays caught his eye and he headed toward it.

"Hey, doofus, what do you think of these?" Shannon was standing in front of him with a handful of items.

He nodded, smiling and then held out what he'd picked out for her, waiting for her reaction.

She laughed as she looked at the red silk panties and matching bra. "You're kidding, right?"

Boone was confused, "No. Don't you like them?"

"Yeah, of course I _like_ them. I just always pictured you as a basic, standard, white cotton kind of guy." She looked at him like he was a stranger.

"I guess you don't know me as well as you'd like to think." He smirked.

"I guess I don't," she raised her eyebrows at him, amused and intrigued that there were facets to him that she'd yet to discover.

At the cashier, she frowned at him. "Aren't you getting anything?"

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Boone, you're wearing some dead guys' underwear, for Christ's sake, get yourself some new ones." She commented, completely freaking out the sales girl. He was so clueless, Shannon thought. He'd never found his luggage, so everything he'd worn since the crash had come from salvage.

They moved on to a jeans store, picking out pants, shorts and t-shirts. They had a momentary scare, as the guy behind the counter had slammed the cash drawer a little too forcefully, causing them to jump, but all in all it had gone pretty well.

The afternoon found them back by the pool. The ship was docked in one of it's scheduled ports of call, just because it had picked up the survivors from Oceanic Flight 815, didn't mean that it didn't have a prior commitment to its' paying customers. That meant that there were only a handful of people on the deck, and ninety-five percent of them were from their group. Boone swam lengths in the pool for an hour while Shannon gossiped with some of the other women. She'd only been sitting there for five minutes when she casually removed her bikini top. The bartender was just approaching to tell her that topless sunbathing was only allowed at the rooftop pool, when three other women followed her lead. He spun on his heel and headed back to the bar, rationalizing that four against one odds weren't something he was willing to take on, especially when the four were topless women. If anyone complained, and he couldn't image _that_ happening, he'd speak to them then.

Tiring of the water, Boone picked up the reading material he'd gotten from the ship's library, and settled back into a lounge chair to see what he could learn about what had happened in the world since they'd disappeared. Damn, he'd missed the final instalment to the Star Wars saga; he'd have to be sure to pick up a copy, and the Red Sox had finally won the World Series, he wondered if Jack knew. Shannon was lying face down on the lounge chair beside him. He checked on Andrew, making sure he was out of the direct sunlight and safely in the shade. He was such a good baby, Boone thought, they were so lucky. After reading for a while, he got restless and got up went to stand at railing of the ship, staring down at the sight on the pier, so many people, such a cacophony; he flinched at the loudness of it, thinking of how L.A. was going to be one hundred times worse.

Boone felt her approach, just before she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her naked breasts into his back. Shannon kissed the back of his ear; he closed his eyes and moaned quietly, tipping his head back into her. He crossed his arms in front of himself, hugging hers arms against him, lacing his fingers with hers, bringing one hand up and kissing her palm.

"You think you could get one of the women to watch the baby for a while?" He wondered.

"Why, what did you have in mind?" she played along.

"I don't suppose you remember where that maintenance closet is?" he asked casually.

"You're incorrigible." She replied with a chuckle, nipping gently at his neck.

"That's a pretty big word for you." He laughed and turned to kiss her. "Baby sitter? Now?"

She nodded, sliding her hand between them, cupping him through his swim trunks.

Minutes later, Shannon's bikini top back in place, they headed hand-in-hand into the ship.


	7. Chapter 7

Whey they went for dinner that night, they were seated at a table with three other couples who stared at them openly, obviously puzzled by their less than stellar attire. Once again they had to justify their presence by explaining that they were from the plane crash, just as they'd had to at the entrance to the place.

Claire and Charlie were looking after Andrew. They'd traded off, Boone and Shannon watching Aaron while the other two had dinner, and now, in exchange, temporarily baby free. He'd pulled her chair out for her when they reached the table; she laughed at how automatic his good manners were, he grinned shyly, a bit embarrassed.

After a round of introductions, they ordered their meal. Shannon excused herself, leaning down to kiss him, more than just perfunctorily, before leaving for the bathroom.

"You kissed her like you thought you'd never see her again." The guy to his left commented.

Boone breathed a little laugh as he turned to the man. "I never knew if I would." He stated simply.

That knocked the guy on his ass a little.

"It couldn't possibly have been that dangerous." Another man scoffed. "From what _I've_ heard it was a deserted jungle paradise."

"We were forty-eight when we crashed; thirty-four of those boarded this ship. Do you want to tell that to the ones who aren't here?" Boone asked calmly.

The man suddenly became fascinated with his salad.

"What did you eat?" one of the women asked.

"Fish, fruit, wild boar, the island provided us with enough to get by." He thought about the endless nights of hunger, when there just wasn't enough to go around, despite their best efforts.

"Wild boar?" The third man questioned, sounding sceptical. "Aren't they pretty big and mean? What did you do, go after them with pointed sticks?" He asked derisively, looking around at the other five, chuckling a bit as he dismissed Boone's claim as absurd.

Boone explained about Locke and his hunting knives, praying that Shannon would come back from the bathroom soon and take control of the conversation, steering it in a different direction, like he knew she could.

"So some of the bigger guys hunted these things?" The man persisted with his line of questioning.

Boone frowned, offended. "No, I hunted them myself." He answered in an aggrieved tone.

"You?" the man responded incredulously, noting the young man's small stature, then did a double take as his wife obviously kicked him under the table.

Boone reached down into his bag, which was hung over the back of his chair, and pulled his knife out of it's sheath and laid it on the table. "Yeah," you fucking jackass, he added silently, "me."

Their eyes all widened at the sight of the huge knife, its' well worn grip moulded to the shape of his hand and stained dark with his sweat, looking so out of place lying on the white linen of the table cloth.

"I, uh, I'm sorry," the guy stammered, understandably unnerved by the seemingly implacable young man with the lethal weapon who he'd just insulted. I just didn't think that…." He paused for a second. "No, I think I'm just going to leave it at I didn't think." The man apologized.

Boone gave the guy a flat stare and put the knife away.

"You ever have to kill anyone with that thing? That is, before tonight?" the man's wife asked giving her husband a pointed stare.

There was no way in hell that he was ever going to answer that question; he could barely admit the truth to himself. He twisted a bit in his chair and looked over his shoulder. "Did anyone see where my sister headed?"

He waited a bit for an answer, then, not receiving one, turned back to the table. They were all staring at him with varying looks of disgust, shock and contempt on their faces. He blanched then asked again "Shannon? Did anyone see where she went?"

"You didn't ask that the first time. You asked where your sister went. The kiss you exchanged with her certainly didn't seem brotherly." One of the women pointed out.

He dropped his head to his hand, wearily, and breathed a sigh. Jesus, if this was what they were going to be up against back in civilisation, they were going to be doing a lot of explaining. He failed to realize that it was his own fault for referring to her as his sister in the first place. "She's not my real sister, just my step sister." He explained, pleading desperately for her return, breathing a sigh of relief at the sense of her just behind him.

She took one glance at the looks on the faces of the people at the table, 'What did you fuck up?'

The next day Jack announced that three rooms had become available. Some members of the crew had volunteered to double up, vacating their quarters in deference to the survivors. He looked over the group, obviously searching for someone, pointing at them when he picked them out. "You two, you get one of the rooms. As much as I'm sure _you'd_ like your privacy, I think _we'd_ all like you to have it even more." They had the grace to look a little ashamed, as there was scattered laughter and applause.

A crewmember headed over to them to show them to their new quarters, they grabbed Andrew and the rest of their stuff, while the man considerately carried the crib for them. He led them through the ship, stopping in front of a door in a decidedly less ostentatious section of the ship. He swiped a key card and opened the door onto a small room, stepping into the entrance. There was a bathroom on their left with a closet beside it. The room beyond had two single beds, a couple of upholstered chairs, a desk and a TV, all in all pretty standard. "Sorry about the single beds," the guy apologized, moving to put the crib on the floor in the corner. "I shared it with another guy, Mike. Uhm, I'm Tom." He introduced himself as he headed back toward them.

"This was your room?" Shannon questioned. He nodded. "Thanks Tom, and thank Mike for us too," she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He blushed bright red, shoved the key card into Boone's hand and fled quickly out into the corridor, pulling the door closed behind him.

For the first time in a year, more significantly, for the first time since becoming a couple, they were well and truly alone together; and they were suddenly oddly ill at ease. The unaccustomed ordinariness of their surroundings overwhelmed them. There was no undercurrent of the danger they'd become used to facing every minute of every day; it was just them…alone…in a hotel room, not knowing what to do with themselves, the situation so strangely foreign to them. They felt like a couple of underage virgins who'd used fake ID to check into a seedy motel with the intention of having sex for the first time.

An awkward silence settled over the room. They both stared through the smaller passageway created by the closet, and into the main room, neither one understanding the source of their sudden nervousness. Stepping forward simultaneously, their shoulders collided; mumbling apologies they moved back to their original positions.

"After you," Boone gestured. Jesus, I wasn't this skittish on my first date, where the hell is this coming from?

"No, no it's okay, you first," Shannon replied. I feel like a sixteen-year-old girl in some college guy's dorm room, this is _Boone_ for god's sake.

Predictably they both stepped forward again, this time he was a little more forceful than he meant to be and hip checked her into the wall.

"Jeeze Shan," he reached out to help her, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it's okay." She shrugged it off. "What's going on here?" she added after a pause. She was staring fixedly at the middle of his chest, unable to meet his eyes.

"I don't know. This is pretty weird. It's like all those times I snuck a girl into my room at home, really awkward and uncomfortable." Boone was still mulling over why this felt so odd.

Shannon looked up at him, surprised. "You snuck girls into your room?" Boone nodded, shrugging. "I never knew. It doesn't seem like you, to do something so, I don't know…normal for most teenage guys, but against the whole 'perfect son' image you had wrapped around yourself."

"Well there you go; something else you didn't know about me." He smiled nervously at her.

She suddenly found something fascinating to stare at on the wall over his left shoulder, all awkward and feeling fourteen again. "Boone, we've shared hotel rooms before, I just don't get this."

"But we weren't having sex when we shared those rooms in the past." He protested. She flicked her eyes back to his, frowning. "I mean with each other." He clarified.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off, "Sydney doesn't count."

They moved back to their original positions, staring at the perfectly ordinary room in front of them.

That's it, he thought, "It's so ordinary. The room, the situation, nothing weird about it," he glanced over at her. "Since we've become a couple, there's not one single ordinary thing we've done. I think this might just be our first dose of the real world."

Shannon tipped her head and gave a nod of understanding. "You're right. This is what real people, a couple on a cruise vacation do. They book passage, they share a room." She checked to make sure he wasn't going to run her into the wall again and walked into the other room, sitting on one of the beds.

Boone followed. After settling Andrew into the crib, he sat beside her. Sitting on the same bed with her felt wrong, he thought, after a moment, and moved to the other bed to face her. They both stared at the floor. She got up and sat beside him again, rocking toward him to bump her shoulder against his. "Come on, this is nuts."

"It may be nuts, but I still feel all awkward." Christ we're fucked up, he thought.

She shifted on the bed, sliding one leg over his to face him, half way on his lap. "Boone, I'm scared. I love you, I really, really do. You know that. It amazes me sometimes, just how much. But I'm suddenly not sure if it's going to be enough. I mean, we're going to face a lot of these moments in the next few weeks. Are we going to melt down like this every time, can our relationship survive, is it strong enough?"

"Shan, if you want to know the future, you're going to have to talk to Claire, I don't have the answer to that." He looked pained, "I love you too, please, god please, let it be enough." He pleaded. "I don't know what I'd do without you. We just need to get through things together, please just hold on to that, hold on to me. We've been through too much," he looked into her eyes, "two near death experiences, and just too many other terrifying things I don't even want to contemplate right now, without breaking apart. I sure _hope_ we'll be able to weather returning home."

"I'm still scared," she repeated, feeling a sudden sinking building in her. 'No,' she thought, 'I'm not scared, I'm panicked.' She looked at him, her eyes wide. "Boone, what's happening?" She suddenly felt close to tears, her terror not having a basis in any real threat. Her breathing got fast as she felt wave after wave of unreasonable fear wash over her.

He reacted immediately by pulling her close, cocooning her in his arms. "Sssssh, it'll pass, I think it's post traumatic stress. I heard Jack talking to Sullivan." He tried to get her to focus on something else. "You know _that_ guy, he's always overplaying everything. Jeeze, he gets a splinter in his finger, and you'd think from listening to him that a polar bear had ripped his arm off." She breathed a nervous laugh in agreement. "Anway, I guess he had a panic attack. Jack told him we'll all probably go through it several times in the next weeks. You think you can hold me like this when it's my turn?"

"I'll take it under consideration." She was still clutching at him, trembling uncontrollably.

"Gee, don't open your shirt, your heart'll fall out." Boone replied sarcastically to her less than generous response. He was amused by her answer; even in the middle of a panic attack she could still muster a smart-ass comeback.

He held her until she calmed down, rubbing her back and rocking her gently, softly breathing the words 'I love you' into her ear.


	8. Chapter 8

Shannon's hair was fanned out over the pillow, her face completely relaxed as she slept, none of the passion that been reflected on it just a few scant hours ago still in evidence. He'd woken up some time before, his body sprawled across hers, his right hand, pinned under her shoulder for god knew how long, completely senseless. He'd pulled it out, careful not to wake her, and worked it till the feeling came back.

He'd gotten up to check on Andrew, who he'd found sleeping just as soundly as his mother, and had returned to the bed. Boone was lying beside her now, his head propped up on his elbow, watching her sleep, trying to decide how much longer he'd give her before he woke her. Twice already he'd found his hand moving, seemingly of its' own volition, to touch her, and had forced himself to pull it back.

The only light in the room was coming from the centre fixture in the small entryway; they'd left it on so they'd have enough light to see by if they needed to tend to Andrew in the night. With no windows in the room they actually found the small area very claustrophobic and sleeping in a real bed difficult to get used to, but they'd promised Jack, after that disastrous first night, that they wouldn't creep up to the deck to sleep again. Besides, they reasoned, it would have been extremely ungrateful to the two young men who'd given up their quarters for them. The single bed hadn't proven to be a problem at all, they always slept pressed up against one another, or as in the case of last night, virtually on top of one another, so they didn't really need more than a small span of space.

Boone found his hand again straying to make contact with her skin. He gave in to the temptation this time, his fingers brushing her hip, sliding up to caress her breast, she moaned slightly and her brow twitched. As he continued arousing her, her hips shifted restlessly, his gentle touches slowly waking her from sleep.

Shannon's eyes opened gradually, she smiled at him softly. "Hey you." She greeted him, speaking in a whisper.

"Hey right back." He smiled back at her, making no move to kiss her, content for the moment to just keep watching the emotions play across her face, his hand continuing to move under the sheet.

"Didn't you get enough last night?" she teased, not wanting him to stop for a second, her body moving in response to the motion of his fingers, as her breathing got faster.

"I'd have to give that a no," he slid himself on to her, his mouth claiming hers.

He hooked his good leg behind hers and flipped them, simultaneously scooting his body back into the centre of the bed in a smooth fluid motion. Shannon pulled her head back and smirked at him. "It's your turn." He whispered in answer to her questioning look, smiling a little shyly.

"You always did play fair." She chuckled, brushing her lips across his.

"And you never did." He responded.

They lived the next two days with no sense of time, never sure on awakening and seeing the digital bedside clock displaying a random time like 6:30, whether that meant it was breakfast or dinner until after checking the am/pm indicator. They only left the room to eat, wantonly using each other until they were limp and bruised.

The group met, for the last time, back in the gym the morning they were to dock. Already having been warned that there would be media waiting for them, several volunteered to be spokespeople for all of them, Charlie, of course, had positively beamed at the opportunity to be in the limelight.

Shannon passed through their group of friends, getting contact numbers where she could, giving those that didn't have one Sabrina's office number. She and Boone had discussed it and had decided it was the only one they could be sure hadn't been changed or disconnected. After the tearful goodbyes, and promises to stay in touch, they put on the hats and sunglasses Boone had picked up at the gift shop and mixed with a cluster of departing passengers. They walked down the gangplank secure in their anonymity.

Boone stopped halfway to the taxi stand and turned, frowning, off to his left. Something drawing him, niggling at the back of his head, he suddenly headed off in that direction, Shannon simply followed along, clutching his hand. A suburban type mini-van pulled out of a parking spot revealing the black limousine that had been parked behind it. A chauffeur was just helping a woman out of the back seat.

They both stopped dead in their tracks, recognizing Sabrina instantly. Boone started to move hesitantly forward, but she held him back, still staring, warily, at her step-mother.

"Shan?" he turned to her.

She met his eyes, "I'm scared, Boone. She hates me." Her lower lip started to tremble. "I think I'd rather take my chances with the Island Monster."

"Shannon, don't be ridiculous, she's not going to _literally_ chew you up and spit you out, like it could." Like it did in my hallucination, he thought to himself. "And I'm right here, and _I_ love you, even if you think that she doesn't, well…even if she really doesn't." He had to give her that one, Sabrina had never warmed to the girl. "We're okay, we're together, I'm right here beside you, it'll be alright." He leaned forward and kissed her.

Why won't that white trash get out of my way? Sabrina thought angrily. How could they have afforded the expense of a cruise? The young man couldn't even pay for a t-shirt with sleeves, and that trucker's hat, how common, she was surprised it didn't have two beer cans and a straw. They didn't even have luggage. From the looks of it, their belongings were stuffed into dollar store back packs and messenger bags. Heavens, didn't the man know you wore the pouch of a messenger bag at the back? He had it slung across his chest. And now they were kissing, in public, how crass. She leaned to peer around them, watching for her son.

"Come on, it'll be fine." Boone chided her, pulling back from the kiss, raising his eyebrows and smiling.

Shannon sighed, and nodded, finding strength in his reassuring presence she fumbled for his hand again and followed him across the asphalt.

Oh, good lord, now they were coming towards her, Sabrina rolled her eyes. If they asked for a handout she was going to call the police.

They stopped a few feet in front of her; she was still trying to look around them. Boone realized, with amusement, that she didn't recognize either of them.

He dropped Shannon's hand and reached up and removed the hat and sunglasses, "Mother?" he smiled tentatively.

Sabrina's eyes widened, "Boone, oh my god, Boone." She rushed forward and pulled him into a hug. He managed to slip an arm between them so she wouldn't crush Andrew. She stepped back, still holding his shoulders and looked into his familiar eyes, they were the same, but different too somehow. There was strength, resolve, and a deep, deep hurt, that hadn't been there before.

Shannon reached up and removed the wide brimmed hat that had been covering her hair, and her own sunglasses.

Sabrina finally let Boone go, and turned to her. "Shannon?"

"Yeah, it's me." She replied nervously, shocked when Sabrina pulled her into a hug as well.

She moved back and looked between the two of them, shaking her head in amazement. The bag that Boone had slung across his chest, suddenly made a noise.

Boone looked down, "I think he's hungry Shan."

"Yeah, he is…again," she agreed, rolling her eyes. "I'll feed him in the car."

Sabrina frowned in confusion.

Boone took a deep breath, "This is your grandson." He gestured towards the bag.

She leaned forward, suddenly registering that it was an infant that he was carrying. Joy at seeing the girl disappeared as quickly as it had formed, replaced by her long standing animosity. So the little tramp had gotten herself knocked up, had she? It was probably that abusive boyfriend Boone had gone to rescue her from, and as far as the baby being her grandson, she didn't think so.

Boone reached down and ticked the baby under the chin. The child's eyes opened as he smiled and cooed.

Sabrina felt a pain deep in her chest and her breathing constricted as she gazed into the grey eyes. She glanced at her son, then back at the baby, then at Boone again. "He's yours," she hissed, all her efforts at keeping the two of them apart throughout the years, suddenly coming to nothing. She hadn't been ignorant of their obvious feelings for each other, even if _they_ had, and had repeated thrown roadblocks in the way of either of them realizing how they truly felt as well.

Boone frowned, confused, "I _said_ he was your grandson."

Sabrina shot a look at Shannon. "I thought you meant…"

"That he was just mine?" Shannon finished the sentence. "No he's ours, Boone's and mine. He's _our_ son." She stressed the word.

Sabrina looked over his shoulder, to where she'd first spotted them. "You were kissing." She accused.

He nodded.

"You're her brother. It's disgusting." She spat, realizing even as she said it, how ridiculous it sounded.

'What?' he thought. "No," he frowned, shaking his head, what the hell was she talking about? "I'm not…not really." He answered, bewildered, becoming increasingly angrier by the second.

"How did this happen?" Sabrina demanded.

He was amazed that the situation had degenerated quite so quickly.

"You want me to explain the mechanics of it, mother? 'Cause I can, the sex, how much I wanted her." He taunted her, pissed off beyond belief.

"Don't be vulgar." She was close to slapping his face. "It's obvious that it didn't take _you_ long to find a way to pass the time after the crash."

"I was already pregnant before we even got on the plane." Shannon informed her smugly.

Boone was shocked that she'd admitted that, they hadn't discussed it but he thought it was something they were going to keep to themselves; after all, the circumstances hadn't exactly been the best.

"Ohhhh my," Sabrina shook her head. "This just gets better and better doesn't it?" She sneered.

"She tricked you into it didn't she?" Sabrina demanded of her son, unknowingly coming close enough to the truth that his eyes widened in alarm.

She turned on Shannon. "You tricked him; this is how you're planning on getting money out of us isn't it? You're going to sue for child support, aren't you?"

Boone was speechless; he'd been prepared for her to be shocked, but not furious, and certainly not so offensive.

"You're so wrong," Shannon answered, she shook her head and chuckled bitterly. Unfortunately this was the exact reaction _she_ had expected. "I love him, I love both of them."

"I don't believe you," Sabrina dismissed her words.

"We are _not_ having this discussion," Boone broke in. "Your accusations are groundless, and I _won't_ let you speak to Shannon like that. We don't _have_ to justify ourselves to you. Sue for child support, why the hell would she have to? We're a couple now, we're together, and you're just going to have to accept that, and know that we both made that choice. We love each other, that's what we realized in Sydney, and that's why we have Andrew." He stretched the truth a bit; it had actually been three months after the crash that Shannon had declared her love for him, but, given Sabrina's reaction, he really didn't give a shit that he was lying to his mother, and certainly wasn't the slightest bit willing to go into the details. "You honestly think for a minute that if our love wasn't real, the year we've just been through wouldn't have destroyed it utterly?"

"I don't know what you've been through in the last year, why…." Sabrina started.

Boone looked up over the roof of the car and noticed someone, who suspiciously looked like a reporter, approaching. "We're going to have to continue this delightful conversation in the car," he cut her off. "I think we're about to get company." He nodded in the direction of the guy moving quickly towards their location.

He pulled the car door open and they all climbed in, the reporter broke into a shuffling run as he realized they were leaving. The driver pulled away just as the frustrated reporter reached them, leaving him cursing at his missed opportunity for an exclusive.


	9. Chapter 9

Boone settled into the seat, then reached down pulling the baby out, in spite of the fight putting their son's needs first. Andrew was hungry and in his books, that absolutely took precedence over Sabrina's little temper tantrum. He waited until Shannon was ready before handing him over.

Sabrina stared at the girl as she slid her arm out of her tee-shirt and opened her bra. She shuddered in horror as she realized that the girl actually intended on breast feeding the child in front of her. Shannon held her arms out for the boy then settled him in to feed.

Boone smiled softly as he watched the two of them, the love so evident in his expression, Sabrina just felt nauseous. He reached his hand out to touch them. She swore if he touched the girl's breast she was going to slap him, but he just trailed his finger down the baby's cheek, then pulled Shannon's hair back behind her ear, leaning forward and kissing her temple. The bile rose in her throat.

He glanced over, noticing the look of revulsion on her face. "Is there something you'd like to say?"

"No, nothing," she bit back her response.

"You can let us out at the next street corner if there's a problem, we can certainly catch a cab to my house." He offered.

"Your house?" she shook her head. "Boone, I'm sorry, but I sold the place."

He looked up concerned. "So, where _are_ we headed?" he wondered.

"My house, your home." She explained.

'No, Boone, please, I don't want to go there.' Shannon protested silently, looking up from the baby in alarm.

'I know, I don't either, let me think,' he paused, weighing their options. Shannon waited, watching his face. He met her eyes, 'Just for a few days? Till I figure things out? Okay?' he narrowed his eyes, wincing slightly, understanding that what he was asking was going to be far more difficult for her, than for himself, not sure if it was really fair to her or not.

'A few days, just a few, no more?' she bit her lip, not looking happy at his request.

He nodded, studying her carefully.

She sighed, and nodded her head in resignation, "Okay." She said.

Sabrina had watched them, thinking to herself that it appeared as if they were speaking in some strange silent language that only they could hear. Nonsense, she dismissed her impression as simply the work of an overly active imagination.

"Alright, we'll come, but not for long, and not so you can insult us." He warned her.

"I offer my hospitality and the best you can come up with is a reluctant acceptance, with conditions attached? Perhaps I _should_ turn you out at the next corner." She was still trying to come to terms with his new maturity, not that Boone had ever, ever been childish. Except for his fear of thunderstorms, even as a child he'd been far older than his years, but he certainly hadn't ever spoken back to her this way, standing up to her in this manner.

Boone shrugged, it wasn't a big deal if she did, he had his own money, they'd just go to a hotel, like they'd originally planned. "Whatever."

She wasn't prepared to accept his 'whatever' so tried to make an effort. "That the both of you survived the initial crash is miraculous, I can't possibly imagine what the last year had been like." She was more than just a little curious. A year for the two of them, so urban, so unsuited for living in the wild, it must have been like a year in hell. She had no idea how close to the truth she was, but for an entirely different reason. She was imagining the island as simply a location, a spot of brown colouring appearing in an expanse of blue in an Oxford School atlas, some place for them to fight against Mother Nature for survival. That the island itself had also been their nemesis; an active participant in trying to rid itself of inhabitants like a dog might want to get rid of a flea infestation, so far out of left field that it might have been the same as her trying to image her secretary wanting to poison her morning coffee. Something, unbeknownst to her, that the girl had contemplated more than once.

"No," he agreed, "You can't."

"So tell me," she urged.

He shook his head, the buried hurt she'd noticed in his eyes earlier suddenly front and centre. "Please, it's too soon. We just need time."

Shannon nodded her agreement, a haunted look in her eyes as well, as she took the baby away from her breast and handed him to Boone. She refastened her bra and slid her arm back into her shirt.

Sabrina's eyes narrowed in disgust. She managed to paste a smile on her face just before Boone raised his eyes from the baby.

"You want to hold him?" he knew she wasn't really a baby person. He'd often marvelled at the fact of his _own_ existence, but thought that maybe she'd be more accepting if she actually cradled her grandson in her arms.

She looked at him, a little uncertain, then dared a glance at Shannon. The girl was watching her, her head tipped, waiting for Sabrina's response. She knew how bad it would look if she hesitated too long. She smiled and held out her arms, "Of course, I'd love to."

Boone placed the baby carefully in her arms, pulling her elbow up to properly support Andrew's head. She felt herself unexpectedly melt a little as she gazed down into the tiny little face. His eyes looked into hers, almost as if he was aware of who she was, he smiled and reached out a hand to clutch at her necklace. She looked up at her children, "He's precious." She commented, shocked with herself when she realized that she actually meant it.

"Yes," Shannon concurred, "he is."

Sabrina, almost reluctantly, handed him back to Boone.

He laid the baby down across his thigh, rubbing Andrew's back gently. He glanced at Shannon briefly, saying "Sure" before reaching in his canvas bag, pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to her. She took a deep swallow while watching the street scenes go by out the window. After recapping the bottle she settled back against the seat, resting her head against the cushioning softness of the leather.

"I called you on the ship. Didn't you get my message?" his mother asked, still slightly bemused by the after effects of holding her grandson for the first time.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't call you back. There was just _too_ much to say for a phone conversation." Boone looked at her apologetically. "How did you know to call?"

"I pulled some strings, got your credit cards flagged for activity. I always had this strange feeling you'd survived the unexplained loss of the flight. During the initial days, after it was reported missing, Oceanic was frantic, the calls I got from them, even in the state I was in, were almost amusing. Their attempts at damage control were so ineffective. You'll both be due a nice settlement. But even so, even after all the months with nothing, no word of you, the search attempts coming up fruitless, I still felt like you were out there somewhere. Maybe your grandmother was right; maybe I am a bit sensitive thatway after all." Sabrina mused.

Boone wondered if that's where he got the spark that the island had built on in its' endeavour to magnifying his latent psychic talent. And a settlement, boy howdy, as Sawyer would say, that would certainly make up for dying, he thought sarcastically. He shrugged, non-committedly, it was only money.

Shannon listened to them with half an ear. Her eyes closed after a few minutes, lulled to sleep by the gentle movement of the car, she slumped against his shoulder, her head falling to rest against it. He smiled at her in amusement, and pulled his arm out from between them, lifting it to curl around her shoulder, nestling her against him. Her hand fell to his thigh, stroking it briefly as she sighed. He rested his own head back against the seat and followed her into the limbo of slumber, neither one of them had gotten much sleep in the last two days.

Sabrina studied them. They made a handsome couple, they always had. The number of times she'd coerced them into appearing in a magazine layout for her company, the results had always been spectacular. They were just naturally photogenic, the heat between them always intensified by the presence of the camera. She couldn't believe that they were so blind to it, so completely in denial that they could just flick past the pictures of themselves together in yet another ad campaign, without realizing it themselves. That was the point where she'd felt falsely secure that nothing would ever spark between them, the baby stretched across his leg certainly proving her wrong.

After about half an hour, the girl started moaning. Sabrina's attention was redirected from the memo that she'd been scanning.

"No, no, please," Shannon spoke, whimpering.

Boone's face twitched in response. Sabrina frowned, puzzled, it was like they were sharing the same nightmare.

"Kate, no, it can't be, no," she was twisting against him, making sad mewling sounds.

Boone's eyes flickered a few times, then opened slowly. He blinked and frowned, trying to get his bearings.

"No," Shannon cried, still caught up in the reality of her nightmare.

"Shan?" he looked down. She'd had this same nightmare the last two nights in a row, rousing him from sleep, frantic, each time.

"Shannon, wake up." He shook her.

In the middle of a moan, her eyes snapped open; she continued to cry, clutching at him. "Boone, no, please, no. It's not true, please, no." she dissolved into sobs.

He held her, rocking back and forth, "I know, Shan, I know, it's not fair. I loved her too, Shan, please, don't do this again, Kate's gone. She's gone, and Jack's alone, it's not right, we can't fix it. Please, Shan." He babbled meaningless platitudes, trying to calm them both.

"But we were so close, so close to coming home, Boone she deserved to come home. God, it's not fair, Boone, it's not fair, two weeks and we would have been home." She sobbed into his shoulder.

"Shan, I can't change that, I'm sorry. At least John stayed behind; he'll be there for all of those who didn't make it. I know he'll say words over Kate's grave, everyone's grave who didn't come home. It didn't surprise me when he chose to stay behind, disappearing into the jungle like he did, instead of being rescued. I got the sense that he'd bonded more with the ones of us who stayed, than those who got to go, even _if_ all the ones who stayed behind, except him, were buried on the hill side by the ocean, belonging to the island as much as he did. Kate won't be forgotten, Shan, not by us and not by Locke." He hoped it helped to satisfy her, sadly knowing full well that it wouldn't. It hadn't on either of the two preceding nights, and nothing had changed in the interim for his words to give her comfort now. Kate had been a symbol for all the women, tough and independent, a member of the leadership cadre, Jack's second _and_ more, until the day her body had been carried in to camp. Boone had become aware that any shred of self assurance had eluded Shannon after Kate's loss, as it had for most the remaining female survivors. He wasn't sure how they would have existed much longer, if rescue hadn't come quite so soon after.

Sabrina listened carefully to their exchange, thinking that this might be the only way she was going to glean any information from them, given Boone's refusal earlier to discuss their experiences.

The girl cried quietly for a while, before composing herself and pulling back from him. Boone wiped her tears away with his thumbs, as they smiled sadly at each other.

Shannon leaned in to kiss him, Sabrina unable to suppress a shiver of disgust at the sight. This was definitely going to take a considerable period of adjustment on her part, the memory of the feel of the small infant in her arms making major inroads in convincing her that it was worth the effort. One of Boone's hands slid up from the girl's shoulders to bury itself in her hair, pulling her in tighter, as her own hand moved up his thigh. Shannon started moaning, her kiss becoming more passionate, the hand on his leg moving ever higher.

"Shannon," Sabrina spoke sharply certain if she didn't stop this that the girl's hand would actually snake down the front of his pants.

She pulled away slowly and gave him a satisfied smile, having gotten the exact response from Sabrina that she'd been after. He smirked at her and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

The chauffeur pulled the car into the driveway of Sabrina's estate and glided to a stop in front of the door.

"Here we are," she said brightly. The two of them just hunched to look out the window and winced.

She led the way up the steps and into house, unlocking the door and stepping to one side so they could enter. She followed them into the foyer, pushing the door closed behind her.

They jumped at the sound as the front door, quite literally, closed on a chapter of their lives.


End file.
